


Calix Meus Inebrians

by whiskyandoldspice (Itsirtou)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Incest, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 01:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsirtou/pseuds/whiskyandoldspice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We've lost so much," Lincoln whispers finally. "We can't afford to lose each other."  (Spoilers for Panama.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calix Meus Inebrians

. . . . . . . . . . .   
  
 _"Do you believe it?"  
"What?"  
"A fire which never dies, burning you forever?"  
"Oh, yes."  
\- Amadeus _  
  
. . . . . . . . . . .   
  
  
Lincoln's mouth is violent against his own, and his cock is hard and hot inside Michael's body.  
  
Michael is shoved against the wall of the freighter's dirty men's room, and his legs are wrapped around Lincoln's midsection, breath is coming in desperate, heavy pants as Lincoln fucks him.   
  
"Lincoln," he gasps as Lincoln grinds up into him, hard enough that a little frisson of pain/pleasure runs down his spine like some ruthless drug. He hates the pain that Lincoln is pulling from him, that this pain is translated by some fucked-up synapse in his brain to be pleasure -- but only when from his brother. He whimpers helplessly as Lincoln presses a kiss against his split lip Kim gave him; the pressure of Lincoln's lips on it hurts, and suddenly Michael wishes Lincoln would slap him, make his cheek sting with the pain and his head bounce off the wall behind him, wishes Lincoln would add more bruises to the collection he already has.   
  
He hates that he needs this now, only minutes after finding out that Sara was gone from him, that Sara had sacrificed herself for him.  
  
He thinks he might have loved her, the way that he thought he could only love Lincoln -- fuck, he had hoped to be free of this dependence on Lincoln. It's crippling the both of them and he knows it, but he's so fucking weak and he just  _needs_  this, the feeling of Lincoln hot and smooth inside of him, burning him, hurting him.  
  
Lincoln's open, desperate mouth is bumping against his own as he thrusts into Michael's body; when he bites Michael's lips hard enough to make them bleed, Michael feels his cock jerk in response, and he moans like a whore. He licks his lips to taste the blood and nearly comes.  
  
Lincoln's eyes are hot and dark on his own and the look in them is the one he gets when he's fighting, and that realization makes Michael burn with a lust so strong it feels like fire in his stomach.   
  
"I love seeing you like this," Lincoln hisses in his ear, his hands gripping Michael's hips so tightly that he knows there will be bruises tomorrow, and God, he wants them to never disappear. "I love watching you take it.  You're fucking  _mine_."  
  
Michael is too far gone now to be angry at Lincoln's words, his mouth open and gasping, eyes half-lidded with sensation. Lincoln's thrusts inside his body are punishing but he wants them to be fucking  _brutal_ , he wants them to hurt him, brand him, erase any memory of Sara so it won't hurt so fucking much when he thinks about her.   
  
"Hurt me," he gasps, begging without even caring. "Fucking hurt me, Lincoln, _please_ \--"  
  
"I'm gonna make you come, Mikey," Lincoln promises in a low, dark voice, "so hard that you forget about her."  _No,_  Michael wants to beg,  _I don't want to forget about her but make me forget -- please make me forget --_  
  
He doesn't realize that he is whispering that aloud to himself, over and over, until Lincoln lets out a deep groan and fastens his teeth on the smooth muscle where Michael's neck meets his shoulder, slams Michael down on his cock so hard that Michael gasps helplessly and comes, his hands scrabbling uselessly at Lincoln's sweating back, comes with Lincoln's name on his lips and Sara's face in his mind. He hears Lincoln groan and feels a rush inside of him, moans weakly as his cock jerks one last time.  
  
His legs sag down, unable to hold their position around Lincoln's waist, and Lincoln lets him fall, following him down to the floor. They curl up against the wall together, Michael's head on Lincoln's chest, Lincoln's hands smoothing over his head again and again.  
  
He sits there, listening to Lincoln's slowing heartbeat, his mind blank. A little trail of blood from Lincoln's bite is slowly weaving its way down his chest.  
  
"We've lost so much," Lincoln whispers finally. "We can't afford to lose each other."  
  
Michael shuts his eyes against the pain, sharp as broken glass, and remembers Sara's unwavering loyalty, Sucre's amused wink and slow smile. The longer he spends with Lincoln, the less of these memories he can hold on to; Lincoln, his body, and the violence of this act are like fires that burn through Michael's mind, and Michael tells himself that they're cleansing and not ravaging, that the pain they cause is the healthy pain of a healing wound.  
  
He tells himself that he's grateful, and sometimes he believes it.


End file.
